


Wish Fulfillment

by lyrium_tattoo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrium_tattoo/pseuds/lyrium_tattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke hadn't seen Anders since after the events of The Little Death, so he goes to check on him and find out why he hasn't been around. Once he finds out, the mood quickly shifts, and Hawke ends up staying for the night...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hawke carefully made his way up and down through the stairs and alleys of Darktown that lead to Anders’ clinic, his step light and eyes alert. It wasn’t exactly the safest place to walk alone, especially as the evening was quickly waning away to night, but he was careful and felt relatively confident. He’d made enough of a name for himself lately that the average pickpocket knew to stay well away, and the purpose of his journey was worth the occasional scuffle in the shadows.

It had been days since he’d last heard from the former grey warden. In fact, he hadn’t seen him since the last time they’d all met at The Hanged Man, the morning Hawke had (he assumed) woken Anders from what had apparently been a very pleasant dream. He smiled to himself, recalling the inadvertent view he’d received. He hadn’t been too surprised that Anders had been absent the first few days after that, as his embarrassment had been clear. But it had been almost a week now, and Hawke had started to become concerned. Or at least that’s what he told himself. He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit he just missed the mage.

Hawke’s pace slowed as he saw Isabela exit the clinic and stroll up to meet him. She’d lately taken on the task of checking in on all their companions. She talked with some and drank with others on a somewhat regular basis. Not regular enough that she could be called out on her new routine, however. Her heart was much bigger than she let on.

He embraced her warmly. “Isabela! My favorite pirate queen! What a lovely surprise to find you here.”

“Favorite? Flatterer! I’ll take the compliment anyway, despite being the only one you know,” she laughed, hugging him back, her head briefly resting on his shoulder.

“That doesn’t make you any less my favorite,” he said with a grin and kissed her forehead. He nodded towards the open door she’d come from as they parted, expression sobering slightly. “How is he?”

“Working himself to the bone, as usual. But you and I both know that’s how he finds his ‘happy place’,” Isabela replied, rolling her shoulders in a shrug as a small smile tugged up at the corners of her lips. “He could stand to take a rest day, if I’m being completely honest. But try not to fuss over him too much, Hawke. It’ll go right to his head.” She peeked her head back through the door and Hawke followed her lead.

Even from their somewhat distant vantage point, he looked tired. It was evident in his eyes, the set of his shoulders, the hair that had come loose from the tail that he hadn’t bothered, or hadn’t time, to fix. The clinic had mostly cleared out, and Anders was finishing up with his last patient of the night. The elf in question winced as she stood, but smiled at Anders nonetheless as he pressed a small bottle into her hands and gave instructions for it’s use. She favored her left leg as she approached the exit, repeating the directions to herself in a quiet murmur. Hawke and Isabela paced a few steps back from the door to let her pass.

“How long has he been at it today?” Hawke queried, concern evident in his voice.

“Since dawn, or thereabouts,” she shrugged again. “That’s been his routine lately. There’s always some emergency or other, and he refuses to turn anyone away if he thinks he can help.”

“So, what, non-stop healing for the last five or so days except to sleep and eat?”

“Basically, except when he forgets that regular meals are a thing most _normal_ people require,” she grumbled, glaring in Anders direction even though he was no longer within their view. Isabela had evidently tried, and failed, to convince him of the importance of food before Hawke had arrived.

Hawke looked appalled. How did one simply _forget_ to eat? As someone who’d always had a hearty appetite, the idea was completely foreign to him. “Perhaps I’ll have better luck?” he suggested. “Surely even Justice couldn’t say no to this handsome face!” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Too right, love. I know I wouldn’t,” she giggled and winked at him. “But for now, I must be off. Varric owes me the first few rounds tonight and I’d hate to be late to cash in on our bet. It’s been good to see you, Hawke,” she said, beginning to turn away. “Hopefully you’ll have better luck with him. When you’re done staring dreamily at him, that is.”

“What bet did he lose to you this time? Wait, what dream-? Never. I… respectfully admire from a distance,” he huffed, feigning deep offense and turning his nose up at her.

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call it. And never you mind about that bet, sweet thing. Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Hawke rolled his eyes, not bothering to question further. She gave him an affectionate swat on the shoulder and sauntered off. Had he thought she needed it, he would have offered to walk her safely up to Lowtown, but one such as Isabela required no escort. The criminals of Darktown didn’t stand a chance against the experienced rogue, and a good number of them had already learned it- the hard way. He turned back to the clinic to sta- no, observe Anders a while longer.

He seemed to be winding down for the night. Slowly, he shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his boots, his movements revealing an obvious strain in his shoulders. He hung the feathered coat up on the back wall with a sigh, and peeled his sweat-soaked tunic off over his head, leaving himself bare from his waist up. He bundled it into a ball in his hands and flung the damp shirt into a corner, apparently resolved to deal with it and the rest of the pile it had joined at another time. Hawke had been waiting to greet Anders when he came out to turn down the lantern, but it seemed he’d forgotten about it for the time being. Hawke turned wick of the flame down for him and stepped through into the clinic, softly closing the door behind him.

Anders walked to the basin by his bed and rested both his hands on the edge, leaning heavily, his eyes closed and brow slightly furrowed. After a few deep breaths, he dipped his hands in and cupped them in the cool water, bringing it up to poor it over his upturned face. He repeated the motion, rinsing the sweat of the day away, and ran damp fingers through his hair. Hawke moved closer, unintentionally quiet, too distracted by his appreciation of the man before him. The play in his muscles as he moved was mesmerizing, as were the droplets of water that dripped down his lean form. Hawke caught himself imagining chasing each of those drops with his tongue, and decided it was past time to make his presence known.

He leaned against the doorway that divided the sleeping area from the rest of the clinic, and cleared his throat to announce himself. Anders started and spun about, brown eyes briefly flashing blue with alarm and the presence of Justice. When his gaze settled on Hawke he relaxed, but only for a moment. He quickly recalled his state of undress, and a flush rose to his cheeks.

“Evening,” Hawke said in greeting after a pause in which he made sure Justice had faded and he took in the view. “Long time, no see.” Though he tried to sound nonchalant, his pleasure at getting a good second look at a half dressed Anders was clear in his voice.

“I, uh… Sorry. I wasn’t expecting company,” Anders replied, gesturing to himself and grinning sheepishly.

“You never need to apologize for that.” Hawke grinned, his gaze running up and down Anders body. “Unless this means you’re going to hide here for another week and bury yourself in the sick and injured of Low and Darktown. Or perhaps you prefer their company to mine?” Hawke’s expression turned into a pout, lower lip slightly protruding, and giving his best ‘sad eyes’.

“Of course not,” Anders chuckled and shook his head, blush deepening as Hawke grinned again, clearly pleased with the reaction he’d gotten. Last time Hawke had seen him like this, he’d mercifully averted his eyes. He wasn’t looking away this time.

“Well, then I’m forced to raise the question: what gives?” Hawke asked, pushing off from the doorway and advancing a few paces.

Anders raised an eyebrow in feigned puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“No one but Isabela has seen or heard from you in almost a week, and that’s only because she went out of her way to check up on you.” Hawke continued to step forward as he spoke. “And it’s unusual for you to avoid everyone for so long, so something must’ve happened. What was it, Fenris ranting about mages again and getting under your skin? Varric told a bad templar joke? Sebastian being too preachy?“ He’d almost closed the distance between them now. “Or was it me when I woke you a few days ago?” he finished bluntly, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Anders’ eyes went wide, and his jaw didn’t exactly drop, but it did slacken as he started to speak and stopped himself. The blush on his face had deepened and spread to his shoulders as he recalled the morning Hawke had nearly walked in on him. If he only knew…

“Oh, that, I… was kind of already awake, to be honest…” he trailed off, gaze dropping to the floor and hugging his arms to himself as though they were a barrier he could hide behind. “I had been trying to get back to sleep.”

Hawke’s smirk spread into a grin as he recalled how Anders’ looked last time - just as flushed as he was now and with an only partially concealed erection. He hadn’t let his gaze linger long, but he still retained a fairly clear mental image of the disheveled mage. It was a rather fond memory. “Oh really? So I didn’t… interrupt something?“

“Not quite,” he replied, unable to help but laugh at his own expense as he confessed, “but almost.” If it were possible for him to blush deeper, he would have. His teeth worried at his lower lip as he looked up at Hawke from under his lashes.

Hawke’s eyebrows raised and his grin spread further as the truth dawned on him. “Almost? I assumed I’d woken you from a… uh… _pleasant_ dream.” He licked his lips, mouth feeling suddenly dry as his brain went wild imagining what he might have walked in on if he’d been but a few moments sooner.

With Hawke’s interest readily apparent, Anders grew bold. “Well, sort of? Considering you were in the dream I woke from…” he trailed off again, his sheepish grin turned mischievous at the lustful look in Hawke’s eyes.

Hawke’s groan of response was more reminiscent of a growl as he closed the final distance between them, taking Anders’ face in his hands and forcefully claiming his mouth with his own. Anders whimpered as his lips parted for Hawke’s insistent tongue, following willingly as he was pushed roughly against the wall, his hands rising to cling to the fabric at Hawke’s hips. Hawke shifted his hands from Anders’ face to cup the back of his neck with one and wind his fingers through his hair with the other. He leaned into him, pushing their bodies flush against each other. He could feel every inch of the quivering mage even through the leather of his armor, especially the growing hardness pressed against his own.

Anders readily submitted to the attention, every nerve in his skin alight with Hawke’s touch and the press of his body. For three years he’d held back, only in his dreams believing something like this was possible, and now restraint had been released. His aching, pent up desire was expressed through his mouth responding hungrily to Hawke’s as tiny, gasping moans escaped him. Anders ground his hips against him, rubbing his growing length against Hawke’s already hardened cock. Hawke groaned again, pulling back from this kiss and pressing their foreheads together, relishing in the feel of the lean mage who cleaved to him.

His hands drifted down to rest on Anders’ bare shoulders, fingers stroking the slightly damp skin. Hawke tilted his head and began to kiss a path down from his temple to his throat, nipping and sucking at the pulse point he found there, his tongue chasing the few remaining drops of water, and Anders moaned softly in response. His hands glided further down, the pads of his fingers brushing against and teasing Anders’ nipples til they grew hard. Anders arched into his touch, his hands moving to start tugging and pulling at the laces of Hawke’s breeches. Hawke growled against his neck, and in one fluid motion snatched Anders wrists and pulled them above his head, pinning and trapping them against the wall with one of his hands. He was entirely too turned on by the disparity of their state of dress to let that change yet.

The force of the move left Anders panting with desire, more so when Hawke grabbed him roughly by the chin with his free hand and forcefully turned his head to the side. Anders mouth felt dry and he swallowed hard. Hawke paused to appreciate the view of the curve of Anders neck and the bob of his adam’s apple before leaning in to nip at his earlobe and then trace his tongue up along the shell of his ear. Anders shuddered and moaned, the attention of Hawke’s feather-light tongue tickled, but made him fully hard. He strained against Hawke’s grip, fighting to kiss, to lick, every inch of the man he could reach, but although his chin had been released, the angle of their heads meant he fell just short. Anders let his head fall back against the wall with a frustrated whine, and Hawke chuckled as his mouth traveled further down.

He left a trail of warm, wet kisses down Anders’ neck and chest, and he eagerly arched his back as Hawke drew close to a nipple, encouraging attention to the sensitive nub. Hawke slowed his pace instead, kissing and licking a wide circle around one areola and then the other, making Anders whine again, a plea. As Hawke continued his torturous pace Anders squirmed in his grip, hoping to make him slip and end the game. But Hawke was playing to win and would not be deterred. Gradually, though, his circles grew smaller and smaller, til he was the brush of a tongue away from giving Anders what he wanted.

“Hawke, _please_ ,” Anders begged, biting his lip as he looked down at him.

“Already begging and we’ve only just begun,” Hawke teased, and blew lightly on the hard bundle of nerves, making him whimper pitifully. The sound went straight to Hawke’s groin, and with an answering groan he took a nipple into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue and leaving Anders panting. He grazed his teeth over and then nipped at it to gauge his reaction, encouraged by the little noises the mage continued to make. Hawke caught the nub in his teeth and pulled, only just stretching the skin. He cried out sharply and Hawke could feel Anders’ cock twitch in response against him as he released it and lapped gently to soothe the tender flesh.

Hawke straightened and released his wrists in favor of moving his hands down to stroke Anders’ chest and tease both his nipples. Anders used his freed hands to grab Hawke by the hair a the back of his head and pull him into a fierce kiss. The corners of Hawke’s mouth twitched up into a playful smile as he kissed back. As he pulled back from the kiss he bit Anders lower lip, making him groan and insistently press his hips against him.

“Hawke…” he whined his name as Hawke returned his attention to Anders’ neck. Anders rubbed himself against where he could feel Hawke’s cock straining against the confines of his breeches. “I need you… please…” Small gasps punctuated his words as Hawke pinched and rolled his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

“Tell me,” Hawke purred against his neck where, in between his words, he continued to bite and suck, leaving dark purpling bruises in the wake of his lips. He held himself still and enjoyed the slight friction Anders created between them. “Tell me what you want, Anders. What you’ve dreamed of. Let me hear how badly you want me.“

“Please… I need you to, nnnf, touch me. Hawke, please, I need to feel you…” he panted.

“You can do better than that,” Hawke encouraged, pinching the little nubs in his fingers hard.

“Oh, Maker, Hawke…!” he cried out loudly, wild with the pleasure and pain of the rough attention of Hawke’s fingers and mouth, and his words came out in a rush. “Touch me, suck me, fuck me, I don’t care, Hawke, I NEED you…!”

He was cut off as Hawke growled and used both hands to yank Anders’ pants and smalls down off his narrow hips. They heard a soft rip as Anders’ pants tore a bit at the seams and pooled at his feet. Hawke mumbled an apology into his neck as his hand found Anders’ hardened length. He wrapped his hand loosely around it and stroked once, the tips of his fingers brushing along the underside. Anders let his head fall back as he moaned loudly and rolled his hips into Hawke’s grip. His voice was rough in his throat as he groaned Hawke’s name and thrust into his fist.

Anders hands move down to Hawke’s hips, encouraging the idle grind of Hawke rubbing his own hardness up against the erection in his hand. He hesitantly moved to tug at Hawke’s laces again, and when no move was made to stop him, Anders quickly unbound his breeches and pushed his underclothes down to free his cock. His eyes widened as he wrapped long fingers around Hawke’s thickness, impressed by the size of the member that more than matched the size of the man. His little toy was nothing in comparison to this, and he groaned, imagining how it would feel inside him. Hawke moaned at his touch and pulled back to spin Anders around and push him towards the bed.

“Lie down.” Anders knew it was not a request, and found himself even more aroused by the commanding tone of Hawke’s voice. He kicked his pants and underclothes off the ankle they still clung to, and, fully naked, crawled onto the bed. He made a bit of a show of it, letting his hips sway and giving Hawke a full view of his ass as he moved up the bed, and then settled himself, stretched out and propped up against the headboard.

Hawke hummed appreciatively at the sight and began unlacing the rest of his leathers. “I find myself still intrigued by this dream featuring yours truly. I want you to show me.” Anders raised a brow in question. “Show me how you touched yourself that morning, when you were thinking about me,” he ordered, taking his time undressing. He carefully folded and set aside each article of clothing as he removed them.

Anders flushed again, but did not hesitate. He brought a hand to his cock and began to stroke, using his other hand to gently cup and fondle his sac. His first two fingers and thumb formed a tight ring around himself which he lazily thrust into, watching Hawke watching _him_ all the while. Hawke’s gaze was hungry, predatory. Something dark was present in the man known for always smiling, and Anders toes curled with pleasure and anticipation as Hawke set his last item of clothing, his smalls, aside. He approached the bed with a measured pace, eyes roving over Anders before landing on the bedside table and what was held there. No one but himself was ever in the small back room, nor had he been expecting anyone, and so Anders hadn’t bothered hiding away the tin of oil and small toy that rested there. Hawke grinned down at him, a hint of his usual mischief returning to his face.

“Holding out on me, Anders? I’d be willing to bet you did more than stroke yourself that morning,” he purred, making Anders whimper and close his eyes briefly. Continuing to stroke, he used his other hand to reach for the tin and set it next to him as Hawke settled onto the foot of the bed. He watched intently as Anders coated two of his fingers and spread his legs wide. He reached down and and teased himself, tracing small circles around his entrance before inserting a single finger with, in Hawke’s opinion, agonizing slowness. Anders moaned low in his throat and his strokes slowed to a stop as he held the digit still within himself, letting himself adjust to the intrusion. Unable to resist any longer, Hawke leaned forward and licked at the precum that dripped from the slit of Anders’ cock. Anders gasped at the contact, groaned as Hawke’s mouth traveled lower to lick and gently suck on the hypersensitive skin beneath the head. He removed the hand wrapped around himself and rested it tentatively on Hawke’s head, asking permission through the gesture. Hawke met his eyes, winked, swirled his tongue around Anders’ tip, and parting his lips as he went down, took him to the hilt. He felt the tip pushing at the back of Hawke’s throat and almost came undone right there. Anders made a fist in his hair, pulling hard despite himself as Hawke continued, alternating between lapping at the underside as he moved down, and sucking hard as he came back up again.

So distracted by his mouth, his eyes tightly shut, Anders didn’t notice Hawke had gone for the tin at his side until he felt other oil slicked fingers on his, gently encouraging movement. His body had relaxed enough to start thrusting, and he did, slowly pushing his finger in and out. Hawke’s hand moved with his til he felt he was ready for a second. He started to extend another finger when Hawke stopped him, instead lining up one of his own with Anders’, and together they pressed into him. He let out a strangled cry of pleasure as they pushed in to the knuckle, and Hawke hummed his approval around his cock, the combined sensation of feeling him inside and out making his hips buck and his thighs quiver. Still taking it easy, they thrust their fingers, keeping to a rhythm that Hawke matched with his mouth. Hawke felt him loosening around their fingers and took over, replacing the digit Anders withdrew with two of his, pushing three deep inside his warmth.

With one final suck up to the tip, Hawke released his cock and rested his head on one of Anders quivering thighs, watching him writhe under the slow thrust of his hand. He gave silent thanks to the Maker that Anders was almost ready for him; he was unbearably aroused despite his cock barely having been touched. He _needed_ to be inside him.

Hawke rose to his knees, fingers still working at Anders hole, splaying slightly to spread him each time they slipped in. “How did I take you? How did you picture it?”

“Mmmf… take me from behind, take me on my knees,” Anders whimpered in reply, knowing by now Hawke wanted him to be explicit.

He moaned at the directness of the reply, Anders was learning fast. “Are you ready?”

“Maker, yes.”

“Good.” Hawke wasted no time after withdrawing his fingers. He dipped into the tin once more and stroked himself a couple times before closing it and tossing it back onto the table. He grabbed Anders by the waist and flipped him over, dodging lanky limbs. Anders gave a cry of surprise and barely had time to find his balance before his hips were gripped and his ass was pulled in the air to be lined up with Hawke’s achingly hard cock. He pressed his tip to Anders entrance and slipped in, his length rapidly becoming enveloped by wonderfully tight heat, and they felt each other moan as he pushed far enough to feel the mages’ sac on his own. Hawke held himself there, pressed deep inside, and waited, watching Anders’ face half buried in the sheets as he panted and squirmed, hands clenched into fists in the pillows above his head.

“You still good?” he asked, his voice breathy and eager. Anders responded by moaning and pushing back on the cock inside him, trying to force him deeper. Hawke took the hint and pulled his hips back to thrust forward, and Anders practically screamed when he reached that point of pleasure deep inside him. Grinning to himself, Hawke repeated the motion again and again, forming a steady pace. He touched that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and quickly turned Anders into a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him. Hawke didn’t think he’d ever before seen something as beautiful as the look on Anders’ face each time he pushed to the hilt and made him cry out with pleasure.

He was rapidly coming undone when he felt Anders tightening underneath him, his voice starting to pitch higher as he too started to reach the edge. Keeping a one handed hold on his hip, he used the other to reach around to take hold of Anders’ length, lightly pumping it in time with his thrusts. It only took a few strokes before Anders fell apart, his member throbbing with each spurt as he came, groaning Hawke’s name. Hearing his name like that was all it took to push Hawke over the edge; two more thrusts and he wrapped his arms around Anders waist, clinging tight to the mage as he rode out his own orgasm.

Eventually Hawke withdrew and they collapsed together in the messy, damp sheets. He wrapped his arms around Anders shoulders and pulled him close, nuzzling into the messy blond hair. Anders happily curled up in his arms, his forehead pressed into the fur of Hawke’s chest. He was still tired, Maker, even more so now, but it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“So, tell me. Was I everything you dreamed I would be?” Hawke asked smiling into Anders’ hair.

“Better,” he murmured against Hawke’s chest, and let out a sigh of contentment. Moments later he’d fallen asleep to the feeling of Hawke’s fingers lightly stroking his back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Hawke wake up together in the clinic after their first night together, and Hawke reassures our favorite blond mage that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

It was early the next morning when Anders slowly woke, his body pressed close against Hawke’s, and felt the soft rumble of the dark haired man’s snores reverberating through his chest. Images of the previous night teased at the edges of his mind, and he pinched his eyes tightly shut, keen to cling to what was, surely, just another dream. The warmth encircling him felt wonderful, but it couldn’t be real. The events of the night before were simply a particularly vivid dream. For a long while he kept his eyes closed, hoping to slip back to sleep as the sun inched higher in the sky, reluctant to accept the inevitable loneliness of wakefulness. If he could just drift off again, it wouldn’t have to be over yet, he could keep pretending…

But when he finally opened his eyes and looked up, Hawke was still there, arms wrapped loosely around him and lips slightly parted as he continued to snore. Anders lowered his head back down, nuzzling his cheek into the soft fur of Hawke’s chest. His mind reeled with the fresh memories of the rogue’s hungry gaze locked onto him, his soft, warm mouth on his lips and his skin, his strong hands moving across Anders’ body with steady assurance. How many nights had he lain awake wishing for all they’d just shared? How many mornings had he wearily dragged himself from his slumber, unable to look at the empty bed behind him as he rose? Overwhelmed, he closed his eyes again, only distantly aware of the dampness gathered there that began to trickle down.

Hawke’s snoring tapered off as he was roused by the soft sobs that had begun to shake Anders, and he reflexively tightened the circle of his arms around the shuddering mage. Anders couldn’t quite make out the quiet comforts Hawke murmured into his hair between kisses to the top of his head, but it sounded familiar. It was almost like the lullaby his mother used to sing to him when was small, before he was taken to the circle. In fact, the longer he listened, the more certain he was that it was the Ferelden version of the same song. He felt himself calming as Hawke ran a soothing hand up and down his back and his other hand brushed through Anders’ unbound blond hair, gently pulling loose the tangles and smoothing down the wayward strands.

“Are you alright?” Hawke asked once Anders’ breathing had evened out.

“This is a dream, right? I must be dreaming if you’re still here.” The question had been rhetorical, and though he tried to keep it steady, his voice cracked in his throat as he replied.

“That depends. Is it a good dream?” Hawke looked down at him, concern in his eyes, and moved the hand he’d had at Anders’ back up to his face, gently wiping the few remaining tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, but… I’m still terrified - I don’t want to wake up.” Anders’ voice was barely above a whisper as he answered, his lower lip trembling.

“Well, if this _is_ a dream, then may the Maker let us sleep a while longer,” Hawke said with a smile, cupping Anders’ chin and tilting his head back to meet his eyes, which were still red from weeping. His gaze flicked down to Anders’ mouth, tongue darting out to lick his own sleep-dry lips. The mage let out a soft whimper, which was all the assent Hawke needed, swooping in like his namesake to kiss him.

The press of Hawke’s lips against his own felt like heaven. He was quick to open his mouth to him as the rogue’s tongue sought entrance, both to give in to Hawke’s kiss and to breathe, his nose still slightly stuffed from tears. Anders gasped into his mouth and reached up to twine his arms around Hawke’s neck as the kiss deepened. They explored each others mouths, running tongues lightly over teeth and nipping at lips, taking time to savor what they’d rushed the night before. To call the kiss intense was a disservice to how it felt. It was slow, deliberate, unhurried and yet hungry and all consuming. The feel of Hawke’s mouth on his became his entire world.

Hawke gently shifted Anders onto his back as they continued the kiss, and settled himself between his thighs, his hardening length pressed against that of the lean blond beneath him. His fingers ran lightly up Anders sides, down along the curve of his ass, and back up again to rest on bony hips as he bit and pulled at the mage’s lower lip, making him pant wantonly into Hawke’s mouth.

Hawke moved lower to delicately kiss and suck at the tender, already purpled flesh at Anders’ neck that he’d abused the night before. Anders gasped at the attention to the extra sensitive skin and tightened his grip around the beautiful man above him. His fingers wound into soft, thick dark hair as Hawke shifted down to nip at his collarbone. Anders clung to him with the subconscious terror that if he let go, if he loosened his grip even a little, he would wake and Hawke would vanish.

Hawke took his time, his lips and tongue leaving a hot, wet trail along Anders’ shoulder and up his neck. He nipped at the pulse point there before easing further up to suck softly on the mage’s earlobe, making him whimper and writhe underneath him, his voice still tight with desperation in his throat. “Relax,” Hawke purred as his tongue lazily traced up the shell of Anders’ ear. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Anders, his eyes already squeezed shut in fear of what he might open them to find, begged, "Promise you won’t disappear?”

Hawke pulled back to look down at him, forcing the mage to -at least slightly- relinquish his grip on his hair, and waited til Anders looked up to meet his gaze before giving his answer. The smile from before had vanished from his face, and Anders could see a touch of sadness in his now solemn eyes.

“I swear it,” Hawke vowed, the seriousness in his voice allowing for no argument. He lifted a hand to stroke Anders’ cheek before continuing, “I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to.”

Anders leaned into his touch, eyelids fluttering closed again. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the tension eased out of him. He knew he could trust Hawke to keep his word.

He nodded, and Hawke leaned down to kiss him again, his hand still cupping the mage’s cheek. It was heated, earnest, impassioned, as though he knew Anders would need more than his word alone, and he had every intention of showing him the depth of his emotion. Anders responded in kind, his fingers re-tangling themselves in his hair, and moaning against Hawke’s mouth as his anxiety loosened it’s grip on his mind.

Their stiff cocks rubbed against each other as Hawke idly moved atop him, and Anders felt them pressed hard into his stomach. Hawke’s weight was oddly comforting as he pinned Anders down. He felt secure, as though Hawke was a shelter, a tangible boundary between him and the rest of the world. There was no Chantry, no templars, nothing to threaten to pull him from the safety of Hawke’s arms. It was as though nothing existed but them, and even Justice remained quiet in his mind.

Anders felt the tension starting to build within him, low in his belly, and his voice began to gradually pitch higher as the pressure continued to rise. He’d never imagined that he’d be able to find release from just heated kisses and lazy thrusting against another, but he hadn’t factored Hawke into the equation.

Hawke heard the change in Anders’ tone, already becoming familiar with his lover’s sounds and signals. He pulled back from the kiss, and Anders surrendered his grip on Hawke’s hair, letting his hands come to rest on broad shoulders. Hawke lifted himself enough to pull the tin of oil within reach, twist it open, dip his fingers in, and set it aside.

Hawke’s mouth returned to his, continuing their kiss as he reached down and slipped the first well-oiled finger in and curling it, lightly brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside him. Anders arched his back in response, moaning low in his throat and making Hawke smile against his lips. With all the careful tenderness the usually rough man could muster, he withdrew the finger and slid it back in again, establishing a gentle rhythm that left Anders panting.

It wasn’t long before Hawke was able to add a second digit and then a third. Anders body was relaxed and eager beneath him, pushing himself on Hawke’s fingers with each thrust. Hawke used his free hand for leverage as he lifted himself up to appreciate the sight of the blonde writhing and moaning beneath him. Anders looked up at him from under half lidded eyes that were full of lust and affection, and felt himself blushing under Hawke’s heated gaze.

“Please, Hawke, please…” Anders began to plead as the pressure started to rise within him once again, impatient to have Hawke filling him and thrusting with more than fingers.

Hawke smiled down at him and slowed his pace. “Please what?”

“Please, just… nng, please, I need you inside me…” he panted under the now agonizingly slow rhythm of Hawke’s hand.

“But I _am_ inside you,” he teased, smile spreading into a grin.

Anders groaned under his touch, but still managed to roll his eyes at the rogue. “I need - mmm - need your dick inside me, Haw- ah!” he gasped, interrupted as Hawke’s dexterous fingers brushed lightly against the pressure point inside him. “ _Please,_ Hawke… make love to me?”

“Mmm, I can’t say no to such a beautifully worded request,” Hawke assented, his voice a deep rumble as his own arousal intensified. Anders’ impassioned begging was quickly becoming one of his favorite things.

He leaned down to brush his lips against Anders’ as he dipped his fingers into the tin once again before pushing it aside. Anders watched eagerly as Hawke sat back on his heels and reached for his cock, lightly stroking himself and thoroughly coating his length. Maker’s breath the man was gorgeous, Anders’ thought, continuing to watch the well muscled, dark haired man touch himself, grinning under Anders’ gaze.

After a few strokes Hawke leaned forward and lined himself up with Anders’ entrance, teasing him with the tip of his shaft. Anders whimpered in response and hooked his legs around Hawke’s thighs, encouraging him forward and in. Ever so slowly he gave Anders what he - what they both - wanted, pressing his thickness into the mage and stretching him wide. Eventually Hawke fully engulfed himself in tight warmth, hands pressed into the bed on either side of Anders’ head, and held himself still there. He shuddered and groaned as Anders’ arched beneath him, his walls quivering around Hawke’s length, adjusting to being filled so completely.

“Ready?” Hawke asked, his voice low and full of lust.

Anders, still shaking and breathless with Hawke’s tip pressed firmly against his prostate, found himself incapable of speech and merely nodded quickly, biting his lip.

Slowly Hawke lowered himself on top of him and began to move. His thrusts were measured and deliberate as Anders panted and moaned, clinging to Hawke, his legs clamped tightly around his waist. Hawke wrapped his arms around the slender mage’s back, fully encircling him in his grip, hands coming to rest on opposite shoulders. Their bodies flush against one another, Hawke let his head rest on Anders’ collarbone as he continued to roll his hips and thrust hard, deep and unhurried into the mage.

Each thrust left Anders gasping, his toes curling with pleasure. His imagination was vivid, but _oh Maker,_ nothing compared to the real thing. He was completely at the mercy of the powerful, beautiful man above him, and there was nowhere in Thedas he’d rather be.

Before long Hawke had brought Anders right to the edge of release, and his legs and arms tightened around the rogue. The pressure rose much faster this time, in spite of the leisurely way Hawke moved in and out of him. Hawke heard Anders voice rising and grinned as he picked up his pace. Anders continued to moan, his voice pitching higher and higher as the tension built within him.

“H-Hawke…” he gasped, voice tight in his throat. “I’m gonna…”

“Do it,” Hawke growled, thrusting harder and tilting his head to bite at the bruises on Anders’ neck. “Come for me. _Now.”_

Anders dug his nails into his shoulders and came with a shout, body responding almost immediately to the command. His seed spilled between them and spread further as Hawke continued to fuck him, chasing his own orgasm. He slammed roughly into the mage, tenderness having fled him in pursuit of release. It was only a few more thrusts before he was over the edge, and he held himself deep, groaning Anders’ name as he came.

Hawke nuzzled at Anders neck, lightly kissing the many bruises he’d left there, and the mage ran fingers through his dark hair as they lay together panting for air. Anders made a whine of disapproval when Hawke eventually pulled out and lifted himself off him, but Hawke merely grinned, shifted to his side, and pulled him back to rest against his chest. Gradually they became aware of the world around them, and Anders groaned, rubbing at his eyes when he realized how high in the sky the sun had moved.

“I should probably open the clinic soon,” he sighed, although he made no move to extract himself from the circle of Hawke’s arms.

“No,” was all Hawke said in reply and tightened his grip around him.

Anders raised a brow and laughed. “No? Just no?”

“You heard me. You’re taking a day off, and we’re not leaving this bed until our stomachs growl so loud we can’t hear ourselves talk. Understood?” His tone was jesting, but somehow Anders knew there would be no talking him out of his decision. And frankly, he had no intention of trying to.

“Yes, ser.”


End file.
